Buffyverse Drabbles and Ficlets
by Fay Meadows
Summary: Short pieces written at LiveJournal. BtVS and AtS; various characters, pairings, ratings. I'll just keep adding more as they happen. Ch. 11: Cordelia and Harmony. Ch. 12: Spike. Ch. 13: Angel/Darla.
1. Death of a Poet: William, Dru

**Title:** Death of a Poet  
**Rating:** PG  
**Words:** 100  
**Prompt:** pride  
**Characters:** William, Drusilla  
**Date written:** June 30, 2008, for LJ community open on sunday

The bite takes him, striking hard, scattering his thoughts like startled pigeons. _Rhyme, I need a rhyme for..._ He bleeds, devoured, clutching at words.

Mother. Oh, it hurts! Cecily. This cannot be real. Quickly, think, a rhyme for _pride_...

Terror and pleasure, as the poet falls beneath the woman - the creature - oh good lord, her hands, her _teeth_...

_Hide. Slide. Cried._

Blood flowing, heart slowing, all love and memory ossifying within.

_Tried. Denied._

"Drink from me," she croons, guiding his mouth.

_You took my pride  
So I ran outside  
And then I died._

So simple, in the end. He drinks.


	2. Costume: Angel, Angelus

**Title:** Costume  
**Rating:** PG  
**Words:** 200  
**Character:** Angel(us)  
**Summary:** Angel gets ready for his first meeting with Buffy in _Welcome to the Hellmouth_.  
**Date written:** July 6, 2008, for LJ community fantas magoria

There used to be colors.

_You remember_, says the demon within.

There used to be coats of crimson velvet - fine lace at his wrists - knee-breeches and buckled shoes. Then the sleek narrow trousers, top hats and canes and riding boots. Muslin cravats, torn from necks before drinking deep. There used to be ruby rings stripped from dead fingers, and gold pocket-watches counting the hunting-hours until dawn. Bowler hats, huge overcoats with fur-trimmed shoulder capes, linen shirts, high collars. Soft leather gloves pulled over blood-stained hands. Waistcoats in dazzling brocades - yellow and sage-green, royal purple, deepest red. Blue as his sire's eyes before she changed to feed. Oh yes, he remembers: there used to be a whole world rich in color and cruelty, passion and power... all there for the taking.

Black pants, black jacket. Plain white shirt. No jewelry. Nothing like a vampire - not like _that_ vampire, anyway.

His world is starker now. Lonelier. Black and white.

_Lose the tie - you look like a Mormon._

Scowling, he pulls off the tie. Leaves the collar open, throat bare and vulnerable beneath his human face.

A demon's mocking laughter echoes in his soul as he goes to meet the Slayer.


	3. Rabbit Dreaming: Anya

**Title:** Rabbit Dreaming  
**Rating:** PG  
**Words:** 100  
**Prompt:** flag **Character:** Anya  
**Date written:** July 7, 2008, for LJ community openonsunday

She's stark naked, surrounded by giant bunnies, so she waves her white flag - but they don't care, they're attacking - and she tries to cover herself but the flag keeps shrinking, and now it's time to open the store but she can't find the key - aarrgh, evil fangs in her leg! - the flag's shrunk to a handkerchief, then a postage-stamp, and she drops it, and the cash register explodes, raining dollars as she sinks beneath a sea of floppy ears...

She never had recurring nightmares as a demon - so it's sort of a good thing, right?

Human now. All the way.


	4. Take Two: Angel, Buffy

**Title:** Take Two  
**Rating:** PG  
**Words:** 200  
**Characters:** Angel, Buffy, Whistler  
**Summary:** _Welcome to the Hellmouth_ humor. First meeting with the Slayer: nervous babbling, not of the good.  
**Date written:** July 8, 2008, for LJ community fantas magoria

She's the Slayer, and a real live girl... and the foot-on-chest thing was always one of Darla's foreplay specials. A combination he finds all too intoxicating.

The carefully-prepared speech flies straight out of his head.

"I'm a vampire!" he blurts, gazing up at her. "I'm 240 years old - or maybe 270? I can do Tai Chi!"

"What?" The Slayer is unimpressed. "Oh my God, now it's _crazy_ vampires? Puh-leease!"

"Hellmouth! Harvest! You've got really nice legs! I'm here to help you!" His mouth isn't cooperating.

The Slayer throws up her hands. "Look, just leave me alone! I've quit - so there."

"Hey, I have a soul! I've been eating rats!"

"Oh, _eeeww_," says the Slayer, striding away.

"Wait! Allow me to give you this lovely cross!"

Too late. She's gone.

Whistler gives him a long look. "Well, yeah, the Powers can turn back time... But it's special cases only. Don't expect to make it a habit, bud."

"Right, okay." He nods eagerly. "Thanks!"

Then the Slayer is staring down at him again.

"Ah, heh. Is there a problem, ma'am?"

A few minutes later, Whistler buries his face in his hands. "No. Third time lucky, my ass! I said NO!"


	5. Fool for the Harvest: Jesse, Spike

**Title:** Fool For the Harvest  
**Rating:** PG  
**Words:** 100  
**Characters:** Jesse, Spike  
**Date written:** July 14, 2008, for LJ community fantas magoria (episode: The Harvest)

"Listen, uh, you know, you wanna dance, you know?"

Same old story. Happens all the time.

Boy meets girl. Girl tells him he's beneath her. Boy runs to the first woman who'll have him. Boy's neck meets vampire's fangs.

He may be nothing more than lunch - or he may rise, changed. Feeling strong, fearless... truly alive at last.

A new face. A new thirst. Same love still infecting his young dead heart.

He may survive for a century - or turn to dust before his second sunset.

If he's lucky, he'll get to dance with the girl before the story ends.


	6. Acathla Riff: BtVS Season 2

**Title:** Acathla Riff  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Words:** 100  
**Prompt:** miss(ing)  
**Characters:** BtVS Season 2 ensemble  
**Date written:** July 20, 2008, for LJ community open-on-sunday

Gather round, kidlets, for the tale of Goldilocks and the Three Vampires...

These were no ordinary vampires. The first was missing his soul; the second, missing her marbles; the third, missing the use of his legs and manly parts.

And they didn't know how to be Three, because they used to be Four - before the missing century.

So there was blood (it's always blood) all over the land, rains of Watcher-fire and dead goldfish, and when the cry rang out - _Who's been sleeping in my head?_ - sweet Goldilocks parted her dimpled lips and played Fourth Vampire, whispering: _Close your eyes_...


	7. Dear BoyToy

**Title:** Dear Boy-Toy  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Words:** 100  
**Prompt:** cruel intentions  
**Date written:** July 22, 2008, for LJ community still-grrr

There, that _delicious_ young man - drinking beer, laughing, so cool and carefree! The vampire is delighted.

Such a bad boy. Never the same girl twice. Charms them with his lies, strips them with his smile... and by morning he is gone.

He sees her and grins, thinking he's found another pretty blonde plaything.

Oh _yes_, he's the one! Hers tonight. Forever.

Outside, he promises her a good time; she laughs aloud, and her fangs find his throat. Then she gives him a little drink. It tickles.

"Parker," she whispers, giggling. "My own sweet Parky-Poo. Hope you like unicorns!"


	8. Moment in Blue: SpikeIllyria

**Title:** Moment in Blue  
**Rating:** M, R  
**Pairing:** Spike/Illyria (AtS 5.18 _Origin_)  
**Words:** 100  
**Prompt:** slow  
**Date written:** July 27, 2008, for LJ community open-on-sunday

So he mentions where a nice bout of violence can lead, and...

"Show me, vermin!"

"Yeah, talk dirty, pet." He drops the clipboard. "Relax, let's take it slow - Aargh!"

No more words, as he's slammed against and _inside_ a surprisingly yielding part of her rigid form - lost in it, in her, time's tendrils unfurling like the sweet alien scent of her arousal - and each thrust is measured in days or months, and she surges against him in long years of desire, and he comes with a roar that spans a century...

Afterwards, he offers her a cigarette. She eats it.


	9. Ding, Dong: Willow, Amy

**Title:** Ding, Dong  
**Rating:** Kplus, PG  
**Words:** about 400  
**Characters:** Willow, Amy, Catherine  
**Summary:** Willow remembers facing a witch on the rampage.  
**Date written:** July 27, 2008, for LJ community fantas-magoria. Episode: BtVS 1.03 _The Witch_.

Amy's invited her to come over on Sunday afternoon, just to hang, like they used to. She accepts - well, of course she does! Now the danger's passed, isn't it great to have Amy back to normal? So Willow finds herself ringing the doorbell around two o'clock, and wonders why her heartbeat is doing the funky chicken.

"Will! Hi!" says Amy, smiling brightly. "Come in!"

The house hasn't changed a bit since she last visited - two years ago, more? She feels kinda guilty about that now. If she'd made more of an effort to stay friends... would she have spotted the body-switch?

Amy leads the way into the kitchen. "Dad and I made brownies last night - want some?"

"Sure!"

"Great!" Still smiling, Amy sets the plate on the kitchen island. She hasn't stopped smiling since Willow walked in the door, and why is that so wiggy? Maybe she _can't_ stop - maybe there's some spell -

No. _Get a grip, Rosenberg_. The Witch is gone.

"Glass of milk?"

Amy turns, raising her hand to take the milk out of the fridge.

_The Witch raises her hand_...

Willow freezes.

"Get out of my way!" says the Witch in a voice of fire-and-brimstone, sweeping all before her.

Willow freezes and stammers, but she can _feel_ it, all that power - building, surging in a long slow lick of heat through the very marrow of her bones, horribly intimate - sweet as chocolate and way scarier than vampires, even.

The Witch turns, raising her hand, twisting the air - and the power bursts forth, heading for - no! Not Xander! _Please_, not Xander!

He falls, and the eyes of the Witch flash black, and Willow is falling too, down into the dark.

"Will? You okay?"

"Huh?" She's back in the kitchen, blinking. "Zoned out, yeah, sorry about that."

"Oh, no big," says Amy, smiling and smiling. "Just thought there was something wrong with my brownies..."

"No, oh no - I _love_ the brownies! Really! They're so - _brown!_ Not, um, purple, or green - which is good, you know, 'cause then they'd be... purplies? Greenies?" Willow's grin feels a bit wobbly, but she clings to it anyway. "So, all with the tasty rightness here! Mmm, brownies!"

Wasn't Amy. All the bad stuff - that was the Witch. And everything's okay now! The Witch is gone.

Amy smiles.

Willow smiles back. Mmm, no such thing as too much chocolate! She reaches for another brownie.


	10. Quicksand: SpikeBuffy

**Title:** Quicksand  
**Rating:** Kplus, PG  
**Pairing:** Spike/Buffy (BtVS Season 6)  
**Words:** 100  
**Prompt:** quick  
**Date written:** August 3, 2008, for LJ community open-on-sunday

She thinks she's drowning; he says she's waving.

He thinks he can swim; she says that's just because he doesn't need to breathe.

He looks down and says he can see the end, where love lies gleaming - but love only lies, she knows it. They're in a deeper well, going all the way.

He kisses her, giving up his last mouthful of air.

And so they meet, both predators and prey, calling on light and darkness to witness their fall. And so they sink, lost beyond solid ground: floundering, clutching at each other, drawing blood.

Down, and down, and down.


	11. Soulless Lite: Cordelia, Harmony

**Title:** Soulless Lite  
**Rating:** Kplus, PG  
**Characters:** Cordelia, Harmony  
**Words:** 100  
**Date written:** August 10, 2008, for LJ community still-grrr

"Stupid vampires..."

"Hey, I heard that! Vamp here!"

"Sorry, not you. Stupid vampires with souls..."

"Oh, right. What's he done now?"

"Never mind."

"Okay... More choc-chip?"

"Yeah, whatever. ...Hey, Harm? Would you want that?"

"What, ice-cream?"

"Soul. Your soul. Do you want it back?"

"No way! I love these jeans!"

"...Um. Jeans, soul - missing the link there."

"Souls, totally fattening, right?"

"What?"

"Well, I lost five pounds when I got turned..."

"Really? Oh, I mean - "

"So if my soul comes back - hey, straight to the hips! And eww, no way, you know?"

"...Harmony, you're so... so... not Angel."

"Well, duh."


	12. Fear To: Spike

**Title:** Fear To  
**Rating:** T, PG-13  
**Character:** Spike  
**Words:** 100  
**Prompt:** rush  
**Date written:** August 18, 2008, for LJ community open-on-sunday

_Fools rush in where angels fear to_ -

Shag. Obvious, innit? Too easy, pet.

_Fools rush in where slayers fear to_ -

Love. Right bloody mess, that was. Next?

_Fools rush in where champions fear to_ -

Drink. Mountain Dew, my arse! Jack Daniels. Should've told him.

_Fools rush into Angelus_ -

Just that one time... Oi! Trick question!

_Fools rush in where poets fear to_ -

Die. ...Twits. Only hurts for a moment, right?

_Fools rush in where vampires fear to_ -

Dust. Been there, done that, got the soddin' fridge magnet.

_Fools rush in_ -

That they do, luv. Every time! Here endeth the lesson.


	13. Warm: AngelDarla

**Title:** Warm  
**Rating:** T, PG-13  
**Words:** 200  
**Pairings:** Angel/Darla, Angel/Buffy  
**Summary:** Something besides the cold.  
**Date written:** August 24, 2008, for LJ community fantas-magoria. Episode: BtVS 1.07 _Angel_.

There's one spot at the Bronze, just by the bar, that always feels warm. It's where she turned to dust.

Four hundred years, and still she left no bones. Gone to dust, only dust, like any common fledgling - with no way to tell which of these motes were once her lethal little hands, her golden hair, the smooth yielding chill of her parted thighs. When he returned, even the dust had been swept away; now there is nothing at all to mark a demon's passing, save for that lingering warmth.

No visions await him in that place - no words, no memories, no scent - and it isn't hot enough to be a hell dimension's echo. Only warm, so gently and irresistibly warm... like a living body, like rich fresh blood.

No, he won't pause there when he passes by.

No, he won't think of it, for the souled never mourn an unsouled death - and all warmth is the Slayer now: the miracle of her innocent human touch for a creature like him. That spot at the Bronze, the haunted figment of his imagination, can't be more than a mockery.

_Damn you, Darla - don't you know ghosts are supposed to be cold?_


End file.
